A Recipe For Disaster
by Nymphicus
Summary: Of course, Draco and Hermione have to become Head Girl and Boy but can they put aside their differences and live together peacefully? Nope! Read for concussion inducing laughs! re-vamped and changed to T with a better title! Read Me.
1. Throwing Insults and Rolling Pins

I just saw the live previews for most of my stories and fanfiction erased most of my spacers and it's been more than 60 days since I edited the story so just to make all y'all's lives easier, I'm re-typing it out again. Be happy cause my laptop won't let me copy and paste it. So here goes for sore hands!!!

_Disclaimer: I was unfortunately a child when J.K. Rowling came up with Harry Potter so I have no claim on it whatsoever. I do, however, own this plot!!

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"…I'm the Hogwart's Hat so put me on,

And you will soon find to which house you belong!"

As the sorting hat finished his annual song, the nervous soon-to-be first years lined up to try on the tattered old hat.

About 30 minutes and 43 students later, the school's Headmaster, Dumbledore, stood up and the Great Hall fell silent.

"Welcome all to a spectacular new year! I hope your head's have become sufficiently emptied over your summer break and readied to be filled once again with exceedingly useless information." ("Here, here!" cried a few of the older students enthusiastically.)

Dumbledore chuckled and continued, "Now as customary, I shall announce our new Head Boy and Girl for what promises to be a most entertaining year."

Many faces showed a perplexity at the old man's words and others stared in awe and question as to the grand announcement that was sure to follow.

"And this year's Head Boy and Girl are…."

Ernie Macmillan stood with his chest puffed out, staring down at his fellow students and saying, "Thank you, thank you, I assure you I will do all that is in my power to make sure we nothing goes wrong this year and we learn all that we can!!"

Students all around him turned to the boy in surprise and glared daggers at his announcement that they would soon be learning "all that they could."

The Headmaster looked on with amusement and cleared his throat softly.

The whispers spreading around the room stopped and he in turn addressed the arrogant Hufflepuff.

"I am regretful to tell you, Mr. Macmillan, that though you were one of the prefects considered for the position, you unfortunately were not chosen."

Ernie sat back down, face red and looking ready to cry.

"Ah, now where was I? Oh yes, now the Head Boy and Girl for this year are… Draco Malfoy and Hermione Granger! Let's give these exceptionally bright students a round of applause!!"

Draco Malfoy stood scowling whilst a proud Hermione Granger held her head high while lowering her eyes in a humble gesture.

Few people in the dining hall did not show either fear or anticipation as to what would undoubtedly be "a most entertaining year."

_

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_

Draco abruptly sat back down after a few seconds only to be jumped and nearly suffocated by his airhead of a girlfriend, Pansy Parkinson.

"Oh how awful Drakie darling! You have to share the Head Dorm with that mudblood cow!! Write to Father right this second and ask for our _Headmaster_ to kick out that _thing_ and replace her with someone much more capable and pretty. Perhaps _me._"

She had not been referring to her own father but rather Draco's as she was rather certain that she would someday marry the arrogant blonde and it would be easier to start her future-father-in-law by the name that she would inevitable have to call him! Don't you love her reasoning?

Batting her eyelashes, she continued to hug the living daylights out of Draco and mistook his look of distaste and light-headedness as agreement with her plan, Pansy finally unlatched her death grip around his neck and returned to her near empty (to start with) plate, eating "daintily."

Seeing the disgust on his best mate's face, Blaise Zabini did what any other close friend would do.

Laugh.

He held his stomach and nearly fell off the bench as he unceasingly chuckled with mirth at his friend's misery.

"It's _not_ funny!" cried Draco indignantly with frustration.

"Yes…haha… it… wa-… Hashanah… _was_! You… HA… should have seen the look on your FACE!!!"

Blaise ended with a few more booming chuckles. Now calm (at least calmer than before), he finally turned to give some comfort to the "distraught" man.

"Hey, it's not as bad as you think. That Granger bird was actually fun to work with on that Charms project we had to do last year. She has a sense of humor and really, she isn't hard on the eyes either."

Draco let out a sort of strangled cry and very nearly shouted at Blaise, "Well, if you like her that much, why don't you go ahead and MARRY her!"

The childish comeback was lost on Zabini when he failed to give a sharp retort and the content blonde once again had a pink tinge on his cheeks.

Zabini looked a bit sheepish and replied a bit too seriously for the situation, "Er, I would but I already fancy a girl. _You_ on the other hand can tie the knot with her! Heard she's been unattached since Krum.

"Besides, the two of you are a match made in… well, I wouldn't say Heaven as you both hate each other with a passion. Alright, I guess Hell works as well as any other word. Someone up there must have a cruel sense of humor. Hey, hey! Don't look at me as if I've become the anti-Medusa or some Blast-Ended Skrewt!

"Take a step back and look at the signs! You both are too smart for your own good, both have sharp tongues, a good aim ("Too true," thought Draco while rubbing his cheek subconsciously), you both have a good sense of humor, well, her's is better in my opinion (another scowl from Draco), and both of you are definitely not a sight for sore eyes."

The smirk from Draco made Blaise pause and think about what was wrong with what he just said.

"Not… not that I go _that_ way! I'm _definitely _into girls… wait, damn, I'm not a pedophile! I'm into girls our age! I'm straight, _really!_ Didn't you hear me talk about the girl I fancy!? She's _female!!_ Straight as a pin I am! I'M NOT A POOF!!!!"

It was Draco's turn to laugh mercilessly at Blaise's hysterics and this, combined with Blaise's deafening cries, brought the attention of many people… including the 'Golden Trio' as many people referred to when the spoke of the famous Harry Potter and his two best friends, Ron Weasley and Hermione Granger.

Draco stopped in his laughter momentarily glower at Harry who was glaring back, Hermione, who had a look of annoyance mixed with a bit of curiosity, and Ron who was currently stuffing his face too much to take more than a glance at the Slytherins.

After Dumbledore's annual speech ended, Harry and Ron's protective brotherly side kicked in.

"Hermione, if he even _tries_ to lay a finger on you, we will pummel him, I swear!"

"Yeah! We're bound to do the same anyway but it'll be great to have a reason this time!"

An evil maniacal glint crossed both boy's faces as they imagined the hurt they could bring on the Slytherin albino.

Ginny, sitting beside the three, rolled her eyes, "Just look at this twisted situation positively! For example, think of all the times you can catch him in a towel!"

A look of pure terror and disgust covered the brunette's face.

"Hey, he may be a self-centered, rude, annoying, bigoted, arrogant git, but you have to admit, he _does _have a dreamy bum!"

By now Hermione looked positively green as though she might puke if any other reference to the arse's arse was made.

"I wouldn't say no to having a peek at Zabini's either and since those two are nearly inseparable, you will get to see _both_, you lucky, lucky witch."

Indeed, many witches all around the four were shooting her envious looks.

Heads once again turned to the Slytherin table when loud and raucous laughter sounded and reverberated off the walls of the Great Hall.

Of course, many people, both male and female alike, already had their eyes on Draco but for different reasons.

The girls were staring because the blonde man was supposedly the most sought after male in the school given his looks, charms, and vast inheritance. The men around the room, however, were looking at the Malfoy heir in a 'You shall die for getting my girl to lust after you' sort of way.

Hermione chanced it and snuck a look at Draco's bum to see if it was really just as great as Ginny described it.

'_Staring. Still staring. Nope, just like any other bum out there,_' Hermione thought to herself. _'Well, it might be a bit dreamy if only there wasn't a conceited head growing on the opposite end.'_

Her head snapped up and she reddened slightly when she realized she got caught staring at the handsome now smirking man chuckling with a boyish demeanor at a fumbling Blaise Zabini still shouting, "NOT A POOF!!"

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Finally, dinner ended and students began filtering out into the halls and corridors, too tired and sleepy to think much.

At one point the Slytherins and Gryffindors crossed paths and who were at their heads but the Head Boy and Girl (showing the little midgets to their dorms once again).

"Move, Granger," Draco said roughly.

"_You_ move you prick," Hermione growled as Draco tried to shove past her.

Surprisingly, Draco looked a bit proud and haughty at her words and replied with, "I try, I try," before thrusting his way past her.

He took a few steps then stopped and slowly turned around.

"By the way, Mudblood, I always wanted to know, why do you wear a bra when there is nothing to fill it with?"

Gasps from the Gryffindors could be heard when Draco, still smirking, called their Head Girl flat chested. Yet… she looked as calm as ever. As if she had been waiting for a moment like this to finally come.

"Well you cold-blooded prick," she said just as serenely as before though wearing a small smirk as she replied, "why do you wear pants?"

And with that, she spun on her heel and continued walking forward with a laughing and cheering Gryffindor crowd in tow, leaving a speechless and utterly humiliated man behind.

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_

"How could that little bitch say something like that to me! I come from a highly prestigious long line of respected purebloods and that little know-it-all mudblood just prances around like I am her equal!

"My blood is pure! PURE! Pure I tell yo-"

"Yes Draco, we have all heard of the 'pureness' of your blood and your oh so great line of dead ancestors. Gee! (snicker) Well, you have to give her some credit. That was one nasty comeback! (laughter)

"She made you speechless! (peals of laughter) You should have seen your face! HA!"

Draco became red in the face and looked as if he would strangle anything within a five foot radius.

"She's never even seen _it _before so how would she know how big _it_ is?" said a disgusted Draco.

Roaring laughter came from Blaise now, "HAHA! WHY DO YOU WEAR PANTS! HA!"

It took nearly fifteen minutes for the Italian to calm down but to Draco's dismay, he started up again with another thought.

"What if she didn't mean Draco Jr.? (said boy scowled at this) What if sh- she m- HA-ment your ARSE CHEEKS!!"

He was rolling on the floor now, clutching his sides and repeating, "It hurts! It, hahaha, h-hurts!!!"

If looks could kill, Blaise Zabini would have been dead and brought back a fifty-one times by now.

Unfortunately, this 'gift' was only extended to the Basilisk and, at that moment, none were available due to their slight tendency to kill anyone around them who looked into their eyes.

Full of dismay and anger, Draco Malfoy left his hyperventilating friend on the ground of the Slytherin common room and trudged reluctantly to the Head Dorm.

He only hoped it was late enough so that the 'creature of the swamp' had gone to bed by now.

_

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_

Once he said the password, Foie Gras (whatever that ment), the stone wall slide open a gorgeously decorated common room filled with leather armchairs and dark cherry wood furniture.

"Hmph! Better write Father about re-furnishing this dump," muttered Draco.

The common room seemed empty but a faint humming could be heard from the side of the large space.

With further investigating, Draco found Hermione, covered in flour and currently rolling out dough in a spacious kitchen connected to the commons.

Seeing some divine smelling tarts laid out on a decorative plate on the side, Draco then proceeded to eat a few to make himself feel better.

"_Yum! They're delicious. Obviously the Mudblood didn't bake these because, just as witches can't properly fly brooms, mudbloods can't cook for their lives. They must have been left by a house elf," _he thought whilst devouring a few more.

Feeling a bit better after ingesting the sugar, he decided that playing his favorite game, torment Granger, was in order.

She had yet to notice his presence, her back turned towards him, hips swaying to whatever she was humming and still rolling out some dough.

He knew that in the past, Hermione had simply detested (to put it lightly) their old DADA professor, Umbridge, so he decided to give her a 'bit' of a scare.

He crept up until he was right behind her and loudly said into her ear in a high pitched feminine voice, "Hem, hem!"

Hermione shrieked, to his pleasure, but then spun around and hit whom she presumed to be the old hag over the head with the heavy rolling pin and on the arm with a blunt-edged baking pan.

Draco, not expecting the attack from the 'crazy person', crumpled to the floor in a heap, Hermione standing over him, nostrils still flaring, only to realize who the person was and what she had done to him.

"Uh oh," she said out loud and bent down to examine her handiwork.

A smidgen of blood trickled down his arm (blame the girl's inhuman strength) and a bump the size of a bludger was starting to rise from his head.

Feeling a teensy bit guilty, she half carried, mostly dragged Draco to one of the couches and began to heal his wounds.

His arm was easy to fix but a large bruise was left that promised to stay a few weeks. The swelling from the rolling pin blow went down but she was afraid she had succeeded in giving him a concussion.

After all, the wooden rolling pin was fairly heavy and she had exerted much more force than necessary, thinking it was the notorious Dolores Umbridge behind her using her well known 'hem-hem' throat clearing line.

As she was patching Draco up, she started apologizing and ranting.

"Oh, Malfoy! I'm sorry! I thought you were Umbridge! Though you are a bloody prick for scaring me half out of my m- Malfoy? Malfoy!! Draco?"

She even used his first name to try and get the boy to speak.

"_Uh, oh," _she thought.

Uh oh was right. She had completely knocked him out with her book-carrying strength and that good aim Blaise had talked about.

She panicked for a good ten minutes trying to get him to come to.

She tried 'lightly' slapping both his cheeks, violently shaking his shoulders, and pouring a bucket of ice cold water on him but to her alarm, none of these worked.

After drying him off with her wand, she thought, "_Wait a second. My wand, of course!"_

She used it to poke his stomach a few times but that failed too.

Hitting herself on the forehead after that clearly stupid attempt from the girl who was supposed to be the 'brightest witch of her time,' she then muttered a, "Reneverate!" and Draco stirred.

"Malfoy? Talk to me!"

He opened his eyes slowly, silver globes staring at her.

"Mother?"

"Oh dear."

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Well, there you have it! The new and improved chapter. My fingers really were sore last night and for some reason, fanfic didn't let me upload this. Please review and I swear, I'm really working on the next chapter. So don't waste time and click on that button!! REVIEW, FAVORITE, ALERT!!!!! Love you all, Nymphicus


	2. Superwizard to the Attack?

Well here is the chapter I've been toiling over. I think some cruel sadistic professor created midterms or tests in general just to torture students. I really do. I hope you like this one because I'm fairly proud of it! Now I have to work on Forgiven but Not Forgotten. Wish me luck!

Disclaimer: I am so utterly poor publishing-wise compared to the great and mighty J.K. Rowling. She owns the characters/setting, I own the plot. Enjoy!

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"Mother! Your hair! It's… fuzzy. Hahaha! Your hair is fuzzy. And brown. Like… burnt pancakes!" Draco Malfoy exclaimed to a very frustrated and freaked out Hermione.

"Uh, Malfoy, I'm Hermione… Granger."

"Haha, I like your games Mother. Hello Hermione Granger! I'm Harry Potter. Do you know what's weird?"

She never heard what Draco thought was weird because just as those words came out of his mouth, his eyes rolled into his head and he keeled right over onto Hermione who just so happened to be standing in front of him at the time.

Struggling under the boy's weight, Hermione managed to roll out from under him and bulled the blonde back onto the couch.

"Oh bugger," breathed Hermione, conjuring up a cold pack and placing it on Draco's growing bruises.

"Bugger, bugger, _bugger!!_"

"Ooh, Mother. You said a bad word. You have a potty mouth!" Draco whispered with wide eyes. Apparently he had awoken from the cold on his head.

Hermione was still gapping at him when he exclaimed, "My head is cold. I'm going to put on some fuzzy socks to keep it warm. Bye!"

"Er…"

Hermione was still trying to work out this logic when Draco popped back out of his dormitory wearing… pink and purple polka-dotted fuzzy socks and singing this:

"I got a really cold head

And some really warm feet.

I hate the color red

And my hair can't be beat!

I got the cold headed bluueess!"

At the top of his lungs clutching one of Hermione's various hairbrushes upright in one of his hands like a wand with the incantation "Sonora."

All the while, Hermione stared with wild eyes mumbling things like, 'going insane,' 'all my fault,' and 'getting expelled.'

But before she knew what was happening, Draco had grabbed her hand and dragged her upstairs to his bedroom and insisted on her tucking him in with a bedtime story.

Hermione tried to refuse but the boys's eyes welled up with tears every time she made to leave.

"Don't you love me Momma?" he asked her with a trembling lip.

Hermione's heart went out to the toddler in the teen's body.

"Er, of course I do… Draco?"

Draco answered with a toothy smile and tugged at her hand, pulling her to sit beside his long body.

She sat reluctantly and reached to tuck him in his gray silk sheets, his body snuggling comfortably under his blankets.

"Bedtime story _now_," Draco said with an authority very similar to the imperious tone he normally used on a day-to-day basis before his head was messed up.

Of course one big difference was the actual words coming from his mouth and the boyish scowl he wore.

"Um… ok. Er, what kind of bedtime story would you like?"

"Well I like the kind with-" and with that, Draco Malfoy fell fast asleep without ever hearing a bedtime story.

Hermione let out a sigh and after that long and exhausting evening, she dragged herself to her own bedroom and fell asleep on her comforter, shoes and clothes still on.

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The next day was thankfully a Saturday though Hermione, the ever practical and organized girl, woke up at her usual 6:00 and dragged herself down the stairs, yawning and forgetting for a few precious moments the chaos and bedlam that had occurred just the night before.

She thanked the deities that being Head Girl had its privileges such as having her very own kitchen as she sat down in one of the bar stools at the kitchen counter.

Then it hit her.

If she was Head Girl, there ought to be a Head Boy too. Who just happened to be… Draco Malfoy.

"Oh bother," Hermione groaned when she realized her enemy might just be lurking in his room and _might_ be just as out of it as he was yesterday. After all, she _had_ bestowed a likely concussion on his pointy blonde head.

She pulled herself off of the stool and soon afterwards, the smell of fresh coffee filled their little kitchen alcove.

Drinking from her cup of liquidated caffeine, she pondered the effects of a good night's sleep on _possible_ concussions.

By all means, Draco Malfoy might have only had to sleep off his craziness for a while before returning to his big-headed bigoted self.

Said boy shattered her vain hopes just as soon as she had assured herself of the boy's sanity (or lack of) when he came sliding down the banister from his side of the dorm.

This was not what crushed what was left of her sanity, however.

No, sliding down a steep two story banister was like stepping over a crack on the sidewalk compared to what she was the first to discover.

"¡Soy Harry Potter, el brujo súper!" shouted Draco, chin held high, hands fisted on his hips with his chest jutting out and… a lightning bolt scrawled on his forehead.

"Your… s-speaking Sp-panish?" Hermione managed to get out, eyes wide and taking in his appearance.

Not only had he drawn a scar just like Harry's onto his head with a quill, he had also donned a green and orange spangled 'cape' complete with an electric blue wizard's hat and what looked like a fiery red body suit.

"Si, la Encrespada. Porque… ¡YO SOY HARRY POTTER! ¡¡EL BRUJO SÚPER!!" he shouted again, this time much louder and with one finger pointed dramatically in the air.

"Y-your H-harry Potter? The s-s-sss-uper wizard!? A-an. And I'm the _frizzy haired!?_" the frightened girl choked out eying his crazed look and wild attire.

"¡¡¡¡SI!!!!! LOS HOMBRES DE LA MAGIA… JUNTEN!!" (YES!!! MAGIC PEOPLE… UNITE!!!!!)

And with that, Draco Malfoy grabbed a breadstick from the counter and zoomed out of their common room… into the halls… where some early risers might be wandering…

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Blaise was having quite a good day today. He had received his new broom, the Bluejet 5000, a top of the line racing broom named after lightning that strikes above the atmosphere.

He was on his way out with it now for an early fly when a great greenish-orangish-blueish-redish blob collided into his stomach.

"Omph!"

Blaise ended up on the floor with his broom luckily suspended in the air. A bit winded, he shook his head a bit and looked up to see what exactly had hit him head on.

Draco Malfoy, in a costume that wouldn't even have fit in in a muggle circus, was bobbing up and down whilst waving what looked like a long piece of bread haphazardly and shouting out, "HI BLAISE!! WE'RE OUTSIDE! WE ARE _OUTSIDE…_YOUR HAIR IS SHINY!!!! SHINY SHINY SHINY!"

He repeated the word whilst dancing with one hand in the air and the other (the one holding the breadstick) bopping the nonplussed boy on the head from all different directions.

He froze from his spot on the ground and stared at his best mate. Well, _former_ best mate if that man had somehow lost his last shred of dignity charging around in _that_ thing.

He looked away just in time to see a frizzy brown head racing through the sparse crowds, stopping every so often and gesturing wildly before starting up again.

Draco was still staring down at the bewildered and thoroughly mentally scarred boy when Blaise saw that Hermione was close enough for him to hear her say, "SORRY!! Terribly sorry! He doesn't mean it! Ehehe!! He's just a bit hyper right now. Saturday mornings you know?!"

No one appeared to 'know' as she put it. Most frowned while picking up dropped books or fixing rumpled robes courtesy of the wild child.

"Really, I'm sorry! Do you know where he went? Oh! He broke your glasses. Sorry. Again. Here, _reparo! _He flew in that dirrection? Thanks so much!" she said with a crack in her voice.

And off she ran again.

"Granger!" Blaise called out in a strained voice, one eye trained on Draco who was alternating between chewing the end of his makeshift wand and sticking the stick like bread into Blaise's shoulder blade.

Hermione turned towards the voice and relief broke through her features.

She doubled her efforts and was at his side in no time, though clutching a stitch in her ribs.

"Wh-what did h-hhe do to _you!_"

"Er… he's been repeating that my hair is shiny and poking me with that breadstick for a while now…" Blaise informed her, now inching bit by bit behind the exhausted girl.

"In Spanish, Norwegian, or Hungarian?" asked Hermione who seemed to have finally gotten control of her breathing.

"Um… what? Hungarian? He was speaking English… I think. Hard to tell after a while."

"Oh good, he was harassing others in different languages earlier." She then grabbed Draco on the shoulder and pushed him to the ground.

"OH! HELLO MOTHER! YOU KEPT THE FRIZZY BROWN HAIR I SEE. IT LOOKS VERY BECOMING ON YOU!"

"Draco, mate, that's not your mother. That's Hermione. Don't you remember?"

"SILLY BILLY! I'M NOT DRACO. DUR! PEOPLE KEEP CALLING ME THAT BUT CAN'T THEY SEE THAT I'M HARRY POTTER? THE SUPERWIZARD?"

"Did he just call himself Harry Potter? And… a Superwizard?"

Hermione sighed, "Yes. Shouted it more like but yes. Somehow he thinks he is Harry Potter."

Draco had dropped onto his back by now and was making shapes in the air with his hands.

Ginny choose this moment to pass by the lot on the way to breakfast and was grabbed by the ankle and unceremoniously pulled onto the ground with a huff.

"Oomf. What the hell? Hermione? Zabini? _Malfoy!?!?! _What in Merlin's name is that boy wearing! He looks like he just ate one of Fred's tampered Canary Creams. Remember when Harry ate one of them last year? Turned out looking like a parrot on crack!"

By this time Hermione had successfully shot a spell at Draco, making him fall asleep strewn out on the grass.

* * *

"Er, Ginny… meet the new and concussed Draco Malfoy… hehe." Hermione said.

Both Ginny and Blaise looked up at her (since they were both still on the ground), mouths wide open and eyes the size of dinner plates.

Blaise finally overcame his initial shock and asked the _very _intelligent question that played in both his and the youngest Weasely's head.

"Huh!?"

"Well, you see, um… you know how last night after my prefect's rounds I went back to the Head's dorm? Yeah, well, I needed some me time away from any school related stuff so I started baking my Mini Limoncello and Lemon Cream Fruit Tarts."

"So you bake when you're stressed? Wow, I wish my mum was like that. Whenever she's 'stressed' she goes out and gets trashed and the next day she goes out on a shopping spree and comes home with another dog. We have nineteen now," Blaise voiced.

Ginny looked at him inquisitively and asked, "What breeds?"

"Well, um, the latest was a Bouvier Des Flandres. His name is Beowulf. Then we have Césanne, a Britanny, Strider, an English Springer Spaniel, Darcy and Lizaboo, our two Cocker Spaniels, Plato, our German Wirehaired Pointer, Dante, our Norwich Terrier , Bambi, she's a sweet Petite Basset Griffon Vendéen, Tessa, a Silky Terrier, Belladonna, a Nova Scotia Duck Tolling Retriever.

"Then we have Loki, our most mischievous Rat Terrier, Thor, our Collie, Cleo, our Pharaoh Hound, Watson, a Bloodhound, Athena, an Akita, Baccus, our Dandie Dinmont Terrier, and of course Napoleon and Josephine, our two Boston Terriers."

"Wow. You have more dogs than I have brothers! And that's saying something." Ginny replied in awe. "I've always wanted a dog but my mother always tol-"

"_Can we please return to the problem at hand!?_" Hermione asked frantically, "he can wake up at any time!"

"Oh please continue, Granger. I'm sure we'd all like to know how my best mate lost his mind."

"Fine. Be sarcastic! Not like _I _would care! I mean I only accidentally knocked him out with a rolling pin when the prick tried to sneak up on me! And of course it didn't take much time for him to come to! A mere hour and a half! Haha, and, ha, of course this could happen to _anyone!! _It's completely normal for him to not be in his right mind afterwards and start calling me mother while singing in fuzzy socks! FUZZY!!

"Not to mention calling himself by my best friend's name and going around harassing innocent bystanders with a hunk of bread and shouting in different languages! No, that's COMPLETELY NORMAL! HAHAHAHA!!"

Hermione continued shouting incoherently with tears running down her cheeks and letting out an occasional bout of mad laughter.

Blaise and Ginny clung to each other and began to back away slowly, finally back on their feet. Blaise leaned in to Ginny's ear and whispered in a high voice, "I think this broke her brain. On the count of three, we run for it."

Ginny nodded minutely and Blaise began counting but the "run for it" part never arrived. All three paused in there movements when they heard a loud groan coming from somewhere at their feet.

The two sane people and the one not-so-sane-one (ahem, crazy, ahem) glanced nervously at each other and then slowly at the grass.

The colorful blotch that was Draco groaned again with his head in his arms and rose into a sitting position.

"Ugh, what _was_ that," he said, rubbing his face and looking around him. "Please tell me the three of you did not just kidnap me. I mean, I know I have stunningly good looks (Hermione scoffed) but really, you could have just _asked_ for an autograph!"

"Now as long as someone has a- WHAT THE HELL AM I WEARING!?!"

Blaise snickered. It served the blonde right if the boy went into shock. He did after all practically molest the entirety of the Hogwarts student body (not to mention a few very confused professors).

"You," Draco said, deathly quiet, pointing his half-chewed breadstick at the black-haired quivering mass of laughter.

"You," Draco repeated, "YOU! YOU DID THIS TO ME! HOW DARE YOU STUFF ME, A _MALFOY_, INTO THIS, THIS… CROSS DRESSING OUTFIT!? I always knew you were jealous of my good looks, Zabini, but I thought I could trust you.

"People don't understand just how hard it is to be so painfully beautiful. Just look! Look at my hair!! It. Has. _Grass_ in it! Just like some common peasant."

Draco nearly growled in frustration when Hermione and Ginny joined in with Blaise's laughter.

Blaise wiped a tear from the corner of his watering eyes and shaking, said, "Well to cut it short, you were beaten up by a girl, became concussed, then lost your mind and started attacking innocents. Oh, and you had a steamy make out session with our very own Professor Snape."

"I did _what!?_"

All three normally clothed students were now rolling on the grass clutching their stomachs in mirth.

Draco scowled, "I should have known it was all a lie. Ha, beat up by a mere woman. Absolutely laughable."

"Erm, Malfoy, that part was true. I didn't do it intentionally though! Well, not to you technically. The blows were supposed to be for Umbridge."

"That Ministry hag?" Blaise asked curiously.

"Nevermind," Hermione replied quickly, too tired to do any more explaining. Perhaps one day she would let them go through her memory of that day. Sometime in the far _far_ future when all of this would become a mere memory. Easy to laugh at.

* * *

She turned back to the trio. Ginny was unusually silent, looking dazed as well. Draco was… well Draco was ordering Blaise to strip so he could cover up his ridiculous costume.

"Seriously, I think this red would do wonders to your eye color! Let's switch. _Now._"

"What! No, I insist, keep the, (snort) leotard!"

"Well at least lend me your cloak."

"No I do believe I shall keep my outer garments. Do you realize how freaking cold it is outside. As I think you pointed out earlier, WE'RE _OUTSIDE_!!"

Draco's cheeks pinked. "I didn't say that," he mumbled.

"No. No you didn't. You _shouted _it!"

Ginny finally spoke up. "Well, this conversation certainly is lovely but I think we would do well to _stop freezing our arses off and get the hell inside_"

"Ooh. Firecracker."

"Ugh, males," Hermione said as a rejoinder to Blaise's comment, "She is right though. We should be heading inside. Someone might see Mr. "I Can Dress Myself" over here.

"Hey! I resent that!"

"Not caring!"

But just as the group was walking to the arch that connected the courtyard to the school hallways, a flash of light blinded them all into a colorful pile.

A scream could be heard from all around the school, "_CREEVEY!!!!!"_

* * *

Hehe. I wonder how this is going to turn out! Excited! Again drilling it into you, READ, REVIEW, FAVORITE, ALERT!!! love y'all! ~Nymphicus

get the lemoncello recipe here: .

courtesy of food network. Oh, and I love all the dog's names. I might use one of them in the future! Look up the breeds too. Very interesting. lol review review review. They make me get through stressful weeks at school just to know this is all worth it. Thanks!


	3. A Game of Tag or Monstrous Intent

**I've been a bad, bad person and haven't updated anything for a long time. So, I give you... a pressie! In the form of another "Recipe for Disaster" chapter. Yay to ending my horrible procrastination tendencies (for now)! Enjoy! ~Nymphicus**

**Disclaimer: Nope, I don't own Harry Potter, or any other fictional character. Or any reference to Potter Puppet Pals (you'll see later) or any large company. I wish I did though... Birthday present ideas! Just one and a half months to go! EEP! Ok. Enough stalling...**

* * *

"Argh! My eyes!"

"I can't see!"

"Who just touched my bum?"

"Hehe, was that your bum, Ginny? I was reaching for a shoulder to grab on to"

"Well, grab on to this, Zabini!"

"Ow! Ginny why'd you punch me?"

"Oh, sorry Hermione! Now, where'd that little shit go"

"… I'm not Blaise. I'm… ahem," a voice cracked and took on a high pitch, "I'm Hermione, you're wonderful rainbowfilled- ack. Ahuh ahuh. Shit I can't do this."

"Blearugh"

"Draco, mate, did you just throw up?"

"No, I just threw down. Of course I threw up you _dolt_!"

"I'm blind now. I shall be like Vergil and orally create a national epic for all to read and centuries to worship! Worship me, world, _worship me_."

The group consisting of a violently colorful Draco surrounded by Hermione, Ginny, and Zabini wobbled unsteadily in an uneven circle after being blinded by the harsh flash of a camera.

Three of the four Hogwarts students stood silently and turned slowly towards the person who had passionately whispered this last statement.

"Granger, what the hell is wrong with you?"

Hermione sightlessly turned to Draco and crossed her arms, "Well, is it my fault that I never get any credit for anything I do? I think I deserve a bit of adoration every once in a while. I wouldn't turn down a beatification either."

"Hey, I've had another thought guys! Well, since my initial idea to go inside was so horribly foiled by a little annoying flea in possession of a camera with a remarkably bright flash, why don't we find that little shit and… AND… argh! I'm so angry I can't think straight! Let's just go catch the bugger and go with our guts, fists, and nails as to what we do with him afterwards!" Ginny growled, rubbing her eyes and trying to listen for the squeaking little Gryffindor.

"I suggest we include a club and acid"

"No, we need to use toilet paper." All eyes, albeit still unseeing, turned to Blaise.

"You have no idea how much pain we can inflict on Creevy using toilet paper. I've seen things mate, terrible, terrible things!"

"Well I for one am up for the guts and nails idea."

"You're suggesting we actually have to _touch_ him! How absurdly muggle!"

"You will do as I say or else!"

"Or else what, mudface?"

"Or else… I'll take away your _fuzzy socks!_"

"No! My warm and beautiful feet will be ruined! That manly heel and suave arch! And don't forget the pink toes; those soft and supple pink toes! Damn you mudface. Damn you."

Both Blaise and Ginny unintentionally thought of the phrase "foot fetish" simultaneously with a little disgust.

* * *

Having eaten his full of sausages, pancakes, kippers, baked beans, and black pudding, a satiated Ron ambled lazily back to the Gryffindor common room. To arrive at his destination, he had to walk 5 meters out of the Great Hall and bear left while keeping right to turn across the hallway.

Then, Ron would need to walk 500 meters down the… 350 meters down t… 278 meters down the hallway before turning now… TURNING NOW. Whoops, wrong left, Ron, turn your other left and please turn around when possible. Y cuando Ud.- ¿Qué? ¿QUÉ? ¿Porqué es este en español? ¡No hablo español! (And when you- What? WHAT? Why is this in Spanish? I don't speak Spanish!) Ahh. That's better.

Now you have arrived at your destination. And in case you didn't hear that the first five times, let me clarify… YOU HAVE ARRIVED AT YOUR BLOODY DESTINATION!

Ron then crossed the threshold of the courtyard and paused at the strange group of people he maybe or maybe not had any association to… depending on whether or not said group intended to salvage any of their scarce sanity any time soon. This mysterious group of… ahem… strangers were standing in different positions and seemed to be in a conversation while imitating the zombie apocalypse he had watched on Hermione's technovision over the holiday.

Arms aloft and adequately groaning, part of the group grasped at air and dragged their feet blindly across the lawn while others stood stock still as if playing possum would help them avoid whatever trouble the others might face. One of the limping persons subsequently tripped over his own feet and landed with a huff in a limp pile of robes. The blonde figure stood conversing with an oak while Ron's own little sister was chatting up a statue of an unusually hairy monk.

Hermione, on the other hand, tried to primly find her way through her blindness with a combination of tango steps and quick prods in front of her with her sparking wand. Poor, poor ignited bush.

Seeing the mayhem and still looking forward to a slightly normal day, Ron edged away and quietly escaped without a sound. Too bad he missed the dark figure hiding behind the tree on his way out. The cloaked being drew out his or her wand and aimed at the group from around the trunk. Yellow light infused the air around them and disappeared just as quickly. Immediately afterwards, Ginny crowed,

"I can see! Sort of."

"Hey, me too. It looks blurry. Did someone conjure stars? They look a bit shiny. Shiny shiny shiny- ow!"

Blaise had enough of his infatuation with the descriptive word and another outburst from the apparently still mildly concussed boy and bopped him on the head, which is a bit like shoving a person with a cold into freezing rain in an attempt to stop the continuous sneezing.

"What? what! No! Make your hair let go of me! Stupid soft hair! Bad! Bad hair!" Blaise screeched as Draco's hair refused to let go of his hand. Hermione sighed.

"Really, it's all about the force of the pull proportionate to the- gah!"

Blaise whimpered, "Let go of my wrist. You're squeezing it really hard. I'm losing circulation I'm- ooh, pretty arse. Must. Touch."

"What! No!" Thus, Blaise's hand was attached to Draco's head, and Hermione's to Blaise's wrist… and Blaise's other hand to Ginny's bum…

"Oddly, I'm ok with this. It's totally worth a hand!" Blaise commented on his inappropriately placed appendage as opposed to the one losing feeling.

Ginny growled dangerously, "Are you looking for my shoulder again?"

"Nobody move!" Hermione authoritatively ordered the other three students. She thought for a bit, then experimentally touched her own arm with her free hand and discovered that it didn't stick. "It's alright, guys! You can touch yourselves!"

"I bet that's a relief for you, eh Draco?" Blaise said smugly.

"You little-!" Draco proceeded to fling his head forward into a deep bow, sending Blaise flying to his side, which then made Ginny trip and land with a thump beside him, and Hermione siting on his back.

Though the four came out with little to no bruises, thanks to cushy backs and bums, unfortunately, Ginny's hands shot reflexively to steady herself and landed on Draco's torso.

"Hey! You blood traitor, get your dirty hands off this angelic- argh!" Draco's irritating comments connected with Hermione's worn out, irritated mind, which connected with her irritated fist, which thus connected with Draco's irritating face. And stuck there. How irritating.

Ginny sighed, "Well, at least it looks like only our hands stick to stuff."

"Have you tried kicking anyone yet?" asked Draco, muffled by a swollen cheek and Hermione's fist.

"This. Is. All. Creevy's. FAULT!" shrieked Hermione, jerking her fist about and pulling Draco's head with it. "I say skip the nails and go straight to the serious torture for that little bugger!"

Blaise gave a little cough (making Draco cower in fear of a stout she-man in pink) and a crafty smirk.

"Didn't I say there are _many_ uses for _toilet paper_?"

Hermione rolled her eyes, "What, do you want to cushion him to death, smother him with fluffiness, clean him 'till he passes out?"

"_Nooooo_, although those ideas aren't half bad. No, I say we do this," Blaise said with an evil laugh and began to lay out his ingenious plan.

* * *

"Why am I helping you out again?" asked Harry, annoyed by what looked like a twister game gone wrong.

"Because you are the one who inspired our mentally unstable patient over here," Hermione said through clenched teeth, roughly gesturing with her stuck fist at the blonde wizard.

"I've told you, for the last time, _he is a fake!_ I am the real Harry Potter. Oh, to be so loved by fans that they will seek out to imitate my hotness and powerful being!" Draco crowed as proudly as one could with three people attached to you.

Harry let go of the roll of toilet paper he had just been wrapping around the tightly packed group.

"I'm Harry Potter! Harry! Harry Potter! That's me!" Harry shouted at Draco.

"No, I'm Harry."

"I'm Harry!"

"Harry!"

"Harry!"

"Harry!"

"Harry!"

"Snape! Wait…"

"Haarrrryyyy!"

"Dumbledore!"

"Zabini, you can't just randomly join in like that. You have to be who you say you are! Those are the unspoken rules," Harry admonished Blaise.

"No, look, it's Dumbledore! He can fix us!" Blaise cried joyfully.

Dumbledore glanced up at hearing his name called and strode over to the stuck group.

"Ah! Playing a few muggle games are we!" Dumbledore exclaimed and studied the group while walking around them. "I see, Twister, Freeze-tag, and Wrapping all at once! Delightful! I once tried to play Sorry! with Professor Snape, but each time I asked, he answered me with 'Don't apologize Headmaster' or 'I wish you would stop changing your mind.'"

"No, Professor Dumbledore, sir, they aren't playing any games. Somehow they were cursed and now their hands are stuck onto the surface of the first person they touch. Can you unstick them?" Harry asked his favorite teacher.

"Oh yes, hmmm. Ah now." Dumbledore muttered every once in a while as he shot different spells on the linked points. "Yes, I understand this perfectly now! Each person in this group has to spend entire weeks in each other's company, including sleeping and using the loo, and eventually, through the close emotional bond strengthened by the physical bond between each of you, your fierce love for each other will break the bars of House rivalry and send all of you hurtling down the path of eternal happiness and joy with soulmates for life!"

"… Professor, so you're saying I will have to fall in love with Weasley, Blaise, _and_ Granger?" Draco asked in a strained tone.

"Yes," Dumbledore answered quite seriously. "Of course, it might just end up having a time limit, which will make the curse wear off in a couple of hours. But do try the Inter-House Friendship and Unity idea first."

"Er, yes sir," muttered the five students together in resign.

"Now, have fun with your wrapping Harry! Though I feel as if I've read somewhere that adolescent muggles usually wrap inanimate objects such as their friend's trees or houses, but good work on the innovative thinking!" And with that, Dumbledore strode off, leaving a bewildered gaggle of students in his wake.

"I guess he's right," Harry said and began wrapping Hermione, Draco, Blaise, and Ginny again with the toilet paper. He soon finished the job and even put a spell on the thin layer, making the white fibres look warty and green. "Ok, mates, you're all set!"

He received a muffled reply as the newly born monster sidled over to the Room of Requirement where they were sure Creevy was developing his new film.

* * *

After making very slow progress and getting lost ("I'm telling you, I was born with an innate sense of direction! We are not lost, merely delayed! No woman! I WILL NOT ASK FOR DIRECTIONS!"), the posse finally made it to the blank wall and managed to trip across the side three times.

Sure enough, a door with "Caution- Film Developing" gilded on the front. With a bang and a determined yell, the thing from the swamp charged into the room onto the unsuspecting little boy, who gave a frightened "Eep!" and fainted on the spot.

"Hehe, we got him," cried Ginny through the green toilet paper. "Now let's get the toilet paper off. It's stifling enough as it is next to so many people!"

The toad monster then crab walked back out of the Room of Requirement, certain that their revenge had been had with the death, ok, passing out of the troublesome little boy.

They did not, however, suspect Filch to be waiting for them outside the door with a giant net and a huge crooked grin. "I've got you my pretty! That student did well to tip me off about the Swamp Thing wandering the corridors! Now stay STILL!" Filch swung his net at them, but barely missed before the group began sprinting away (or as close to sprinting as four bodily attached people can get).

They were chased by the enraged caretaker through nearly the entire school as other students dodged out of the magical creature's way else they be trampled by that, or Filch wielding a giant student-suitable sized net.

Dumbledore yet again passed them and laughed affectionately. "Ah, to be young and full of energy. If only I were a month younger, I could join their lively game of tag! Now, to find Snape and engage him in a delightful game of Apples to Apples!"

* * *

**I've realized that I hardly ever read the bottom Author's Notes if I'm immersed in a story (although this one should just be light and humorous). So it is unrealistic to think that I would expect others to also read this and actually review what I've written. But, for those of you who actually do take the time to do that... THANKS WITH ALL MY BEING! You get a virtual Draco- Superwizard plushie that, when squeezed, says some of his best catchphrases (in English AND Spanish!) Thanks to all of those who have reviewed so far, favorited this, or alerted this story (sorry for the wait!). And at 12:06 am, good morning to all! Love y'all!**


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